not your typical first meeting
by xxEnnelAikuMeikaxx
Summary: In which Akashi Seijuro, a young, mighty and diligent lad with the highest position in Akashi Corporations, gets dragged to a wedding dress showcase by a certain (intimidating) pink-haired co-worker.


**not your typical first meeting**

* * *

According to his reliable secretary Midorima Shintaro, his schedule today is rather loose – he has to do nothing but stay cooped up in his office; finish some paperwork, look through the newly submitted project done by the remarkable pair Mibuchi Reo and Nebuya Eikichi, meet a partnering company CEO to seal a deal and go through the properties of his family for some investing. To be compared with the previous days, today is indeed lax and less hectic. By the time the clock strikes one, signalling their lunch break, Seijuro has already a heap of his completed work by his side and had already approved of Reo and Eikichi's project – that consisted of several contracts, but nothing that may terribly affect the company's quota.

Seijuro exits his office as he adjusts his sleek black tie and notes how most cubicles are already empty. If his attentive eyes hadn't spotted a few people not too far from where he was standing, he could have deemed the room as completely void of people. Not that it mattered; he prefers a lesser bustling environment, anyway.

The office kitchen was almost a perfect example. During lunch break, almost no one ever goes there to have their lunch. Of course, food was scarce except for a box of wheat crackers and canned tuna spread in the minibar. A shiny red coffeemaker stands high and proud on the countertop. Surprisingly, the company also provides reading materials – though they're all rather outdated magazines and vandalised books.

Seijuro had expected completely nothing to be at the office kitchen except for the things listed above. That was why he was more than surprised at the sight of one of his most promising co-workers, Momoi Satsuki, perched on one of the smooth silver stools and quietly sipping a drink, her long pink hair tied back into a neat bun. "Satsuki," He calls out. The woman almost chokes on her drink.

"... Akashi?" She says, coughing slightly. "What are you doing here?"

He goes towards the coffeemaker and takes a mug from a cupboard. "This is where I spend my breaks," He glances at her for a while before placing the empty mug on the counter. He eyes the filled carafe beside the coffeemaker and points at the drink, to which Satsuki answered, "Latte blend." Seijuro takes the carafe and starts filling his red mug, custom-made so his name would be imprinted on the red handle.

All was quiet for a while as Seijuro poured the steaming latte into his mug and brings it to the island counter to sit across from Satsuki. He notices how the woman's gaze keeps lingering on him like a curious cat, her pink eyes wide. She hands him a wooden coaster from a rack by the corner of the countertop, to which Seijuro thanks her for and places his hot mug on. "How's your day so far?" Satsuki suddenly asks, putting down her mug and clasping her hands together on her lap. She fingers the fabric of her pencil skirt as she waits for Seijuro's answer.

Seijuro eyes her almost questioningly before he took out his iPhone 6 and swipes on the screen with a single finger. He's immediately greeted by the white of the website he's left open, entitled Teiko Gazette. Glaring back at him was a headline screaming his father's name, together with the words, 'hospital' and 'critical.' Even with his eyes pinned onto the webpage, he answers, "All's well."

Satsuki places her cheek on top of her open palm and her dainty fingers drummed on her cheek. "Hmm, and?"

This time Seijuro fully raises his scarlet gaze to meet hers, brows furrowed just ever so slightly. "…And?" He makes sure that the single word is stretched at the same time he raises an eyebrow. Seijuro puts his phone on lock mode again as he places the mobile on the island countertop.

Satsuki flashes him a dazzling smile before she hides her stretched red lips behind her mug. Seijuro could feel his annoyance brewing slightly, the clock hand on the white wall ticks with every passing second as Satsuki takes her precious time sipping on her latte.

Seijuro suddenly feels parched, and that's when he finally drops his gaze to his mug and brings the edge to his lips. He feels and cherishes the almost scalding yet comforting warmth against his lips – he notes how the flavour tastes sweeter than his usual blend – and he feels the liquid pouring down onto his tongue, down his throat –

"Want to go on a date?"

He swore Satsuki had made him choke on his drink intentionally.

* * *

When work was done and over with, the clock hand had just landed on the digit four. A tad bit too early for his co-workers to punch in their cards and leave, but definitely not for Seijuro as he walks through the walkway that separates the cubicles from his personal office, shoe soles thudding dully against the carpeted floor accompanied with the sound of keyboard clicks and mutterings.

He holds a briefcase in one hand and a thick file in the other – not much of a burden, but Seijuro indeed has to acknowledge the beginning of an ache in his arm as he adjusts the file closer to his chest. Even after two hours since he'd finished his latte, there was a lingering sweet taste at the back of his tongue – which makes him pause every once in a while to try figure out the type of latte he'd consumed. Despite being a type of coffee, it did not leave a bitter aftertaste. He wondered if Satsuki poured in an abundance of cream or milk.

Seijuro put his briefcase on the floor and was about to punch in his card when suddenly a hand slammed on the concrete wall, emitting a noise that managed to send a shiver of shock through Seijuro's spine – only a bit. "A~ka~shi!" It was a sickeningly sweet voice.

He turns and sees his previous lunch break companion who has a rather… suspicious, bright smile, almost equivalent to the one he'd seen three hours ago, but not quite.

This one was more intimidating, radiating off bad omens.

Seijuro carefully evaluated the woman's aura in front of him before he picked his choice of words, carefully rolling them off his tongue with ease. "Satsuki. May I help you?"

Perhaps Seijuro shouldn't have asked that question – yes, he should never have asked if he could 'help' with something. Now Satsuki's smile had obviously widened, her head tilted and a hand had clasped on her cheek and she emanated a loud, troubled sigh. "Ah… Well, you see, Dai-chan has been rejecting my offer a lot of times… And now I have no one to go with to a wedding dress exhibition."

A sigh. A very loud, resentful sigh. "Satsuki, as I've told you –,"

"Yes, yes, an Akashi has a lot of business matters to attend, even at night," Seijuro almost winced at the biting sarcasm lacing the previously delicate woman's voice, but not that he'd let her pull such a reaction from him. It was a secret, but Seijuro's never been one to take sarcastic comments well. "How rude, stretching a helpful hand to a woman such as I and completely withdrawing back at the next second."

Seijuro almost let a hand go to his face and just slap the skin on his forehead – but then the objects in both his hands managed to prevent him from doing so. "Satsuki, I understand that you are reading a feminist-induced book. However that is not an excuse for you to use such comments against me, especially at work and with no acceptable factors."

He wholly ignored the pout that Satsuki was sporting. He instead punches his card into the whirring machine, waits for it to do its work before it spews out his card to which Seijuro grabs and puts it back in its rightful place on the wall. He grabs his briefcase and was about to give his last words to Satsuki when –

"Akashi _-kun,_ "

He freezes at the pressure on his given suffix.

* * *

And that was how Seijuro finds himself seated at one of the VIP tables, sitting behind sleek pure white satin sewed under a layer of floral lace, the table practically covered with porcelain dining utensils and a single pale blue carnation resting in a slim glass vase, covered in intricate spring-themed carvings. Seijuro has to admit, of course – it is a rather pompous exhibition, _f_ or _a fashion show,_ Seijuro inwardly adds.

Satsuki had not given him much time to change into better attire – "Akashi looks good in anything, so need not worry!" she had said, while strutting out her apartment door wearing a strapless white dress with red 3" heels clacking against the floor – so he was left to make do with his grey silk dress shirt and black slacks. He feels slightly awkward when seeing how the others are dressed, though, but no matter. He needs not be concerned about something so trivial.

Satsuki is the complete opposite – she keeps dabbing a new layer of powder after every time she wipes her sweat, keeps re-applying her Burt's Bees red tinted lip balm and snapping her lips together, keeps on adding make-up – until Akashi had to, at one point, hold down the wrist handling a blusher brush. "Stop applying so much make-up, you'll look as ridiculous as a porcelain doll."

The pink-haired woman blinks, surprised at the redhead's sudden motion, when she obligingly lowers her hand from her face. As soon as Seijuro releases her arm, she snaps all the foundations she laid out on the table to a close and stows them away into her black purse – _honestly, how can she fit all those things into such a small purse?_ Akashi grumbles under his breath – and took out a tissue instead. She dabs it onto her lips, lessening the bright red shade that had glared straight at Seijuro. "I'm just really nervous."

At that statement, Seijuro raises a questioning eyebrow. "Why? Is the designer a scary person?"

"No," Satsuki makes a face. "It's just that she's a very renowned, individualistic person based on my research. She'd usually turn down requests to design dresses for others. Won't you be nervous to meet a person of higher level, and to ask them a favour out of nowhere?"

"… Satsuki, are you getting married?"

The woman couldn't suppress the warm smile from enriching her dolled up face, and she raises her gloved right hand to show off a gleaming platinum ring around her ring finger, studded with a dark blue opal. "We haven't made an announcement yet, so please, hush."

Seijuro can't help the widening of his red eyes as he continues ogling at the piece of surely expensive jewellery. He ponders for a moment about who he might have seen Satsuki acting tenderly with, but no man – or woman – comes to mind. When Seijuro voices out his question, Satsuki presses a slender finger upon her lips. "It's a secret for now, but all I can say is that he has ties to the designer."

Seijuro leans against his chair, easing the strain in his back. "The son, I presume?" But instead Satsuki laughs a twinkly laugh and waves her hand, and Seijuro takes it as a sign for him to just wait and see for himself. Now this managed to pique Seijuro's interest – will Satsuki's fiancé be here in person? Then if so, why would Satsuki invite Seijuro, a co-worker and her _boss_ on top of it all, to come as her companion?

Seijuro's questions are solved when the answer came in the form a short blue-haired man dressed in a white tuxedo, seemingly similar to the one Satsuki currently wears.

* * *

 _I want to go home,_ was all Seijuro could think about as he sat there and managed a friendly smile to everyone around the table, hands promptly folded across his chest with a leg crossed over the other. The table was full of food – seeing as it was a buffet of sorts, Akashi had merely served himself a bowl of comforting tofu soup, a piece of wrapped _karaage_ bundled with vegetables and delicious homemade sauce, together with the finishing touch; a small serving of chocolate éclairs. Akashi had seen several more interesting dishes he wished he c _ould t_ ry out (for an example, the frog legs he'd heard so frequently about), but his stomach protested.

But he wishes he hadn't finished his meal so quickly, because now everyone at the table turned to look at him and ask him questions.

"So, you are the Akashi Corporate heir?"

Yes, he had politely answered.

"I've heard great things about your company's accomplishments. Sometimes I wish my company collaborated with yours, just so we can share the goodwill with the rest of the industry."

He smiled briefly but no, _this old man is definitely kissing Akashi's ass a_ nd obviously wanted to share the credit. No.

"How old are you? You look very young. It restores my faith for humanity if someone as young as you can do so well."

He is approximately 25 years old to date, but that's because his birthday is in three months' time.

"Are you single?"

He is most definitely – _what._

Seijuro snaps his gaze on to the owner of the soft voice he'd barely heard, only for his eyes to land on a bed of tousled powder blue hair and incredibly pale skin, and then to a pair of pretty sky orbs and _wow, that is breathtaking to be honest._ Seijuro took a moment to register that ah, it was Satsuki's fiancé that had asked him that. He had almost forgotten the man was there all the time.

"Yes," Seijuro speaks calmly as he tries to push the momentary shock away. He's caught offguard by the question not because he hated to be asked about his love life, but only because he was almost sure no one would be interested in his owning a girlfriend or boyfriend of sorts.

The man next to Satsuki tilts his head to the side. _Adorable,_ but he is Satsuki's. "Then, who is your date today?"

Seijuro freezes at that. How should he answer? That his fiancée herself practically dragged her boss' ass over here because she wanted him to come along? Now won't that make Satsuki sound like an unfaithful little girl? Seijuro sends a quick look at Satsuki, desperate in the inside for Satsuki to save him from the threat of an interrogation, but the woman was busy stuffing herself with spoonful and spoonful of pasta and mussel. _Thanks loads._

Well, there was no use in lying, so fuck it all.

"Satsuki has brought me here."

Instead of a glower that he'd been expecting, the blue-haired man instead showcases a small, angelic smile. "Ah, I see. It's a wonder I don't see Aomine-kun around here."

Seijuro was not entirely surprised that the blue-haired man knew of Aomine Daiki. If he were to marry Satsuki, he would have had to go through Aomine just so he could have Satsuki's hand in marriage. Seijuro could only imagine what kind of trials this man had to go through. "Daiki is presumably… busy, if I recall correctly," He turns his gaze to Satsuki. And oh, he lets the woman feel him blaming her through the look in his eyes. "Right, Satsuki?"

"Right," But Satsuki doesn't even take a second to pull her eyes off the dish she's ravishing. Seijuro sighs. _Leaving me to fend for myself with a group of strangers – how irresponsible can you get, my beloved employee?_

"Then, who is Akashi-san to Momoi-san?" The man's voice pulls Seijuro away from his thoughts and his gaze away from the pink-haired woman beside him. Instead, Seijuro looks over her head to pin his sights on to the man beside her.

It was then that Seijuro realized how void the man's face is of emotions, with only a tinge of pink of his cheeks and little dots of perspiration allowing Seijuro to tell away his discomfort with the room temperature. Seijuro stands up from his chair and walks over to the man, who looks up at him curiously under his long blue bangs. "I am her boss, Akashi Seijuro," He thrusts a hand forward.

With movements mirroring that of a rising delicate swan, the man stands on his feet and shakes Akashi's hand with a firm grip. "Nice to meet you, Akashi-san. I am her friend, Kuroko Tetsuya. Thank you for always looking after Momoi-san."

 _What._

* * *

It only took an hour in a half for Seijuro to completely become comfortable with Satsuki's other companion, Kuroko Tetsuya. It wasn't a hard thing to do; Kuroko and he had hit it off incredibly well for two people belonging to different worlds. They share similar interests, like reading, basketball and enjoying solitude at most times, and they were able to make do with the little amount of things for their conversation.

Through just an hour in a half, he's discovered several things about Kuroko thanks to his keen eyes. The man makes tucking a lock of his blue hair behind his ear a strange little habit, and he usually touches his chin or pokes his own cheek if he was thinking about something. He is also an avid fan of vanilla and non-spicy dishes thanks to the foods he brings to the table. But nonetheless Kuroko is not a huge eater like Aomine, and he finishes his meal with only a few forkfuls.

And through just an hour in a half, Seijuro finds himself unbuttoning the top button of his dress shirt just so he can fan himself as he splays himself back against the seat. Impolite, yes, but the heat and density of the air has become unbearable now. He was just glad Satsuki isn't spraying her perfume anymore – he'd be dead just inhaling the overbearing scent of flowers. Kuroko seems to think the same, turning away now and then to take a few deep breaths.

It's only when Satsuki deems herself ready and bids them goodbye just so she can meet the dress designer before the fashion show starts that Seijuro asks Kuroko if he wanted some fresh air. The bluenette complied and Seijuro's never seen the man seem so relieved.

The lobby was much, much more tolerable than the ballroom. People aren't sauntering around dressed in fancy suits or open-backed dresses, no loud clacking of high heels nor the chatters of invitees. It was almost void of people save for the few families who've nothing to do with the current event, and the wandering reporters who luckily do not stop even for a moment with either Seijuro or Kuroko. Seijuro is forever grateful that the gods would let him have his moment.

"I was hoping for a balcony of sorts," Kuroko voices out his thoughts from beside Seijuro as the redhead drops himself onto a comfortable sofa, practically melting against the furniture as he basks in the cold, crisp air that smells like the freshly washed linen at home. "But I suppose a lobby is good, too."

Seijuro raises his head up only to blink owlishly at Kuroko. "I am not aware that this hotel would have a public balcony."

"There isn't?" Kuroko lets a soft amused smile creep to his features. "I thought Akashi-san would have led me to one."

"That sounds like an invitation."

"I prefer to call it an offer," Kuroko sits down beside him on the sofa, sitting in a polite posture unlike Seijuro who instead opted to hell with his manners. Kuroko notices this and only lets out a chuckle. "You look very different than when you first came here."

Seijuro crinkles his nose as he lets his head drop to the side, discreetly smelling himself for body odours. "I have been working from the get-go and I am suddenly dragged to a fashion show as soon as work ends. I am very much tired, to say the least."

"I can't say I disagree," Kuroko sighs, digging himself into the backrest as he slumps downwards. "I, too, have been running errands all day. Though, I'm glad I could spend a little break here with you."

Seijuro doesn't make the effort to turn his head to meet Kuroko's eyes. All he wants to do now is to stare at that shiny marble wall, reflecting the lights from the chandelier above them. He could feel Kuroko's eyes on him, but he is too dead tired by the day's happenings to care for now. Instead, he recollects his thoughts and tries to put piece and piece together so he can unravel the nagging curiosity inside his mind about the man beside him.

Throughout their talk, Kuroko has introduced himself as Satsuki's friend since middle school, which makes him a friend of Aomine's as well, seeing that they have gone to the same school and went through the years together. When asked, he mentioned that he'd had a boyfriend before, but they broke it off after his partner came out as bisexual and got interested in a girl instead.

The fact that he was interested in men managed to tie Seijuro's tongue, but he was not unfamiliar with the sexual orientation. Aomine has brought his own boyfriend named Kise Ryouta several times to their office, and Seijuro has had to scrub the memory of them having a heavy make out session from his mind far too often.

But back to Kuroko, of course. He needn't be reminded of Aomine and Kise's secret kinks.

Kuroko is also a basketball player, and a regular to add despite what his outer appearance may tell Seijuro. Seeing that Seijuro himself was a basketball player in his high school years, he tried to dig through old memories in case he had met Kuroko in any of his games. No, he does not come up with anything, unluckily.

But the idea of Kuroko being an old acquaintance is intriguing, so Seijuro files that possibility away for later investigations.

Seijuro thinks and thinks, but nothing comes up as the reason why Kuroko is here at a wedding dress exhibition. He'd mentioned he was single, so who was he here for? The image of Kuroko standing at a pedestal dressed in a luscious tuxedo came to Seijuro's mind, and the thought makes something swell inside his chest.

"Akashi-san?"

Kuroko's voice manages to snap him from his train of thoughts yet again, but the feeling inside his chest fails to subside. Seijuro feels just the slightest bit annoyed at how he could not come up with a reason why he experiences it so, but he shrugs it away and instead turns to Kuroko, for real this time.

Kuroko is right beside him, their shoulders touching and head already turned towards Seijuro. Their positions made the distance between their faces little, and if Seijuro edges forward even a bit, he was almost sure that he would immediately meet Kuroko's lips. And the idea doesn't even disgust him, so he doesn't make a move to budge from his place and instead stares right back into Kuroko's blue pools.

He could drown in them for all that he knew.

"You seem awfully distracted." But before he could grant himself the pleasure of just looking at Kuroko's eyes, the warmest shade that resembled a summer sky, he finds his eyes trailing to Kuroko's lips instead.

They were small but the plump of Kuroko's lips are incredibly defined, almost perfectly pink and soft like a woman's, and his bottom lip hung open just slightly to reveal the pearly white front teeth.

"Akashi-san," The amusement lacing Kuroko's voice does not go unnoticed, and Akashi tore his gaze away from the man's lips. What was he thinking, staring at someone's features like that with this proximity between them? Of course Kuroko would notice, stupid him for acting on his curiosity.

Or rather, should he blame his hormones? He doesn't know.

But what matters now is the smile on Kuroko's lips, and the words that comes after.

"If you'd like, how about lunch together tomorrow?"

That night as Seijuro laid in bed under the covers of his duvet, he curses himself for forgetting the question that keeps on coming back to his mind. But at the same time he relishes in the memory of Kuroko smiling and inviting him to a seemingly innocent lunch break together, to which he answered yes.

But then he remembers at how he'd actually answered the question, and he gave himself a big slap to the forehead.

* * *

If one would ask of how Seijuro and Tetsuya had met, Tetsuya would say that it was at first through the entrance ceremony of a basketball game, when they walked past each other in the men's restroom. Nothing more than a face that blinked in and out, nothing more than a stranger.

But if one would ask of how Seijuro and Tetsuya had found themselves bound together by fate, both would say it was when they first went to a restaurant nearby Seijuro's office and had a lunch date, and next when Seijuro bumps into Tetsuya at a park and end up jogging together, to the point in their life where Seijuro has his first most passionate make-out session with experienced little Tetsuya inside his own office –

And then a year later where they make sweet love to each other under the Christmas lights, when Seijuro proposes the idea of Tetsuya included as part of the Akashi family.

It all happened in the time period of two years, but no one dared to protest Seijuro into taking their lack of history into consideration.

Not when Seijuro happily clasps Tetsuya's hands as they stand on the pedestal, two lovebirds brought to each other through one woman who had pestered them for at least a few years in their own respective lives.

They seal the vow with a kiss much too inappropriate for the crowd to actually cheer on, though.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

=This is my breakthrough from writer's block… expect me to go into hiding for more weeks to come :)

=Please, any criticism is welcome. I feel like I screwed the ending up much more than I should and ran away from the plot as the story progresses.

=Fuck I totally ran away from the prompt fUCK

=I will re-write this probably

=Screw it

=this is unedited please excuse any grammar or spelling I suck

=also title sucks excuse me now


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